


Soulless Jelly Moulds

by MorganaNK



Category: Inspector Lynley - All Media Types, Inspector Lynley Mysteries (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:33:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26756578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganaNK/pseuds/MorganaNK
Summary: Tommy and Barbara, bantering about the Bristol (he's such an easy target where his car is concerned!)
Relationships: Barbara Havers/Thomas Lynley
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Soulless Jelly Moulds

**Author's Note:**

> Property of Elizabeth George and the BBC, no copyright infringement intended

I stood against the wall watching Tommy fuss as the Bristol was valeted. I had always found his protectiveness over what was essentially a lump of metal amusing, and had taken every opportunity to tease him about it.

“You do know that these guys are professionals, they do this for a living. I’m sure you can leave them to it, safe in the knowledge that they’re not going to go joyriding or ram-raiding.”

“The Bristol is a very expensive…”

“Classic, yes, I know. We’ve had this conversation so often I can recite it off by heart! I just don’t understand why you’d spend that much money on a car.”

“It’s a passion. A classic like the Bristol, and the Jensen before it have style and character. Cars of today are soulless jelly moulds.”

“You’re such a car snob Thomas Lynley! As long as they are watertight, reliable, and get you from A to B without spending the equivalent of the global national debt on maintenance and fuel then that’s all that matters.”

“So, you’re not impressed by my car?”

“It’s a car. Now, if it were a food truck or an ice cream van, well then we would be talking impressive.”

Wrapping his arms around my waist, he pulled me close.

“I love you Barbara Lynley, but there’s no way on earth that I’m trading the Bristol in for an ice cream van.”

“Spoilsport.”

His lips brushed against mine, “would lunch help soften the blow?”

“It would,” I grinned at him, “but I’m choosing which food truck we get it from!”

Laughing heartily, he spluttered out his response, “we have a deal.”


End file.
